The Games
by chaos-entropy
Summary: FFVII/Hunger Games crossover. Shinra are holding their 24th Annual Games, the televisual event of the year for the masses, where there can only be one victor in the dog-eat-dog competition, and the prize is a full-ride scholarship to SOLDIER.


The man was standing in the dark while the audience watched, with bated breath. Tickets to this taping had been particularly hard to come by. The televisual spectacle of the year had turned a tidy profit for both the ticket company and the scalpers. Managers had had to rent an even larger studio just to accommodate the interest. Strangers sat awkwardly close to each other, each leaning slightly forward to gaze at the presenter, who had been bathed in darkness just before the show went live on air.

The director, a tall yet portly man, held up a small tablet computer, counting down the three seconds until launch.

The lights flickered on at the one, and the crowd roared. The object of their adoration was Jett Wilson, a popular TV presenter who swept through award ceremonies and was booked for almost every Saturday night extravaganza. He had turned his hand to everything from variety programmes to reality shows to crown the next big singers and models in Midgar, but the gig he looked forward to all year was this one.

"It's time for Shinra's 24th annual Games!" He bellowed into the microphone, raising his arms in an almost joyous gesture. "Make some noise, Midgar!" The jumbo screens surrounding the audience on both sides showed a cross-section of the crowds that had gathered in all eight sectors of the city. Shinra guards were attempting to hold back some of the more adoring members of the crowd, flailing their arms in the hopes of perhaps appearing in one of the links.

After a few moments, the frenzy died down. Jett waved his free hand to silence any further cheers, and cleared his throat.

"Now, we're going to make this year's Games some of the best you've ever seen!" He smiled self-knowingly, then continued: "I know we say that every year, but with the horror of the Wutai War nearly behind us, I think it's now time to party, don't you think?"

The crowds hollered their approval. In the control room, the channel executives were watching their ratings soar as more and more people around Gaia tuned in to the TV event of the year.

"Right," Jett shouted over the din, "we have an evening packed full of entertainment! I hear there are people from Mideel to Bone Village watching us on satellite TV right now" A practiced cheeky grin pulled his lips upwards, and he waved to no-one in particular. "That's for the lovely ladies in Costa Del Sol. So, who's ready to get this party started?"

Yet again, a cheer came from every member of the crowd.

"We've got some great guests coming up tonight, including a guy who you might have heard of. He only singlehandedly helped us turn the tide in the war! Yes, everybody – the newly promoted General Sephiroth is in the green room right now!"

The screaming took on a slightly higher pitch, making Jett glad that he had earbuds in. One girl in the audience even attempted to make a run for the stage door, but a guard firmly escorted her back to her seat.

"He's sharing the couch with Lucy," Jett continued, "who you'll remember from last year's Voice of Midgar. Beautiful voice, beautiful girl, and a true talent! She'll be performing her new hit song 'Mirror' later on tonight." A live feed link showed the guests chatting and having drinks, Sephiroth composedly discussing something with President Shinra. A Turk stood behind them, a stern expression on his face. The pop starlet was laughing at some joke made by her minder before learning that the cameras were on her.

The screaming continued to increase in pitch. Clearly, they had been made aware they were on camera. In contrast to the kisses Lucy was blowing along with wild hand gestures, Sephiroth smiled thinly and waved his hand, before returning to his conversation. The VT displayed one ardent fan who waved an enormous banner printed with "MARRY ME SEPHIROTH!" among others waving similar shows of adoration.

Jett was back on the screen, adjusting his tie slightly. He grinned again, and waved to someone whooping in the audience. "It's time now for a commercial break. We'll be right back after these messages."

* * *

Lucy, dressed in a gown that President Shinra thought was absolutely ridiculous, stood up abruptly. She had on a white dress tapering down to a frilly fishtail skirt that hid her feet, a grey corset, and a set of plastic bubbles adorning her shoulders and the side of her head. Her minder, in a one-sided conversation with the Turk, had just been wired some orders through his walkie-talkie. He beckoned her to follow. The Turk grunted and returned to being a silent observer.

"Artifice. Pure artifice." The President had scoffed when Lucy had disappeared down the corridor to her dressing room. As usual, Shinra wore a wine red suit with tailoring that never quite held in his large frame. He leaned over the table to pick up his glass of whiskey, whilst Sephiroth stayed completely silent. President Shinra was a rather irascible man, jolly one moment and cold-blooded the next. He was prone to making decisions that were never questioned, which was the reason why Sephiroth was dragged out for a TV appearance tonight. The First Class SOLDIER couldn't exactly ignore the chief executive's orders.

A lifetime of military training had ensured Sephiroth only spoke when spoken to. The young man never slouched, and always stood with his hands behind his back, unless given permission to sit. Even after rising to such a high rank in the military, old habits died hard.

President Shinra took a cigar out of its case, chopped off the end and lit it. After taking a long drag, his gaze turned to Sephiroth. "Are you going to be this reticent when you're live on TV, my boy?"

Sephiroth knew never to rise to an insult. Even if it was the most horrible blow on his character, or the reputation of somebody close to him, he had to keep his emotions guarded. Not out of fear of what he could do if he went on the offence, but simply that it wasn't dignified. Especially not to his boss.

President Shinra was often rude to people; his secretaries had to learn not to take what he said to heart. "Speak up. You're going out on live TV to promote these Games, and here you are with a dour expression as if these games are _inhumane_, or whatever pigswill the rebels are whining about these days."

Sephiroth sighed. "I simply have nothing to say right now. I'm not good with small talk."

The President tapped his cigar into the ash tray. It had a horribly acrid smell, but Sephiroth didn't dare say anything. "Not good with small talk..." He grumbled, but let Sephiroth hold his thoughts in for a few more moments, then grunted as he put out his cigar. "You've been with the Games recruits all week. Who's got the most potential? We're in the process of staging our bets, you see."

"The kids from Midgar, most likely." Sephiroth said, folding his arms, eyes staring off as he thought. "I suppose the ones from District 8 will be valid contenders."

"Nibelheim..." President Shinra breathed. "Well, if I recall, the boy did abysmally in his tests. The girl wasn't so bad, but the boy..." The next noise that came out of his mouth was a guffaw. "This is a prank, isn't it? You and your colleagues in First Class can bet on him, but me and the Directors sure won't be. I bet it'll be one of the Midgar Cadets who wins. Nobly sacrificing themselves to participate. Success is freely given to go-getters like that, did you know that? No matter what your background is, if you're willing to put in the hard work..."

The First Class General nodded. President Shinra would freely regale him with the story of how his emigrant family came to prominence, but Sephiroth didn't want to hear it now. Minerva knew he'd heard it a million and one times growing up.

A cheer erupted in the audience again, as the programme came back from its ad break. Shortly after, a loud, clattering pop song boomed through the backstage area. President Shinra muttered something about the music sounding like a hundred Chocobos squawking.

Sephiroth just remained placid. The production schedule stated that he was going to be on after Lucy. While one could never say the great Sephiroth was nervous, he didn't like public speaking. He didn't particularly like the celebrity label attached to him for something only a small percentage of the population had seen him do. For rising to such a high rank out of nowhere. People had naturally asked questions in interviews over the years, and Sephiroth had had to mask his discomfort and lie every time. To the public, he was the orphaned son of a Shinra worker, somebody whom President Shinra had a great affectation for. As a young boy, he'd shown himself to be a prodigy, exceedingly interested in anything to do with the military. President Shinra gave him a full-ride education, which Sephiroth excelled at, and he was quickly made into the youngest ever member of SOLDIER. His unofficial autobiography said as much.

He wished Angeal and Genesis were here with him. However, Lazard had put his foot down, just in case some AVALANCHE operatives saw the lack of security at Shinra and decided to attack. Still, this would be much easier if they were here to chat and crack jokes before their TV appearance, rather than Sephiroth having to sit with his sour-faced boss.

Lucy reached a particularly high note in her song, and the TV in the green room showed her trying her hardest and failing to pull off a heartbroken facial expression. That would probably be screen-capped and edited around the WWN later tonight, with humorous captions. The President chuckled, but Sephiroth had to steel his resolve even further. He didn't want a repeat of the 'Feffirof' incident happening again.

As Lucy finished her performance, confetti burst over the stage and the crowd roared their pleasure. Jett Wilson came back on stage, and shook the pop star's hand, before raising her arm up. "Lucy, everybody! Lucy! That was _spectacular_."

"Thank you!" She breathed, seemingly as exhausted as a recruit after a long day at bootcamp.

Jett paused to let her catch her breath. "I think I'll have to let you go down and recover in the green room. Alright, everybody, Lucy's single is available to buy and download off the WWN right now, and her album is out next week. She's been absolutely _brilliant_. Please give a big hand for Lucy!"

The crowds applauded again, as Lucy tottered off the stage. The cameras swung around, trying to ignore out the runners with brooms, clearing the stage of all the glittery shreds of paper. The presenter grinned to the camera, letting it follow him to another side of the stage, which had been set up with a white sofa. "As you know, our next guest is probably going to set the world _alight!" _He grinned, walking towards the new stage area. "The youngest ever SOLDIER, a prodigy. Hero of the Wutai War. You know what those Wutai call him? 'The Silver Whirlwind.' He's _that _fast in battle, ladies and gentlemen." After handing his microphone to a stagehand, he took a moment to arrange his coattails and lapels then seated himself on the sofa. "His fan-club call themselves the Silver Elite. He's certainly _something_, wouldn't you agree? If you please, everybody – give a big warm welcome to General Sephiroth!"

Several members of the crowd roared and squealed louder than they had before. The cameras focused on those with banners and signs in the interior audience and in the crowds outside. There was even one man who'd dressed as Sephiroth, silver wig and all.

Sephiroth finally came out of the tunnel that led to the backstage, after Jett yelled for them to make some noise for his arrival. Immediately, several hands nearby flew down to try and touch him. If he was discomfited by this, it didn't show on his face. He gave a diplomatic smile and continued on his sway to the seating area. The Turk who had been keeping watch on him and President Shinra was following behind him, pushing aside some of the more amorous fans.

Vocal cheering turned into applause, and as Sephiroth sat down a short distance from Jett, it turned into stunned silence. The Turk took his leave, to join his partner down in the green room.

"Welcome to the Games, General." Jett said, shaking Sephiroth's hand firmly.

"Let's brush aside the formalities, for now. You can call me Sephiroth."

"Yes, yes." The presenter smiled, edging slightly closer to the General. "You know, a little bird tells me that you use two whole bottles of shampoo and conditioner every day, to maintain that glorious long hair of yours. Do you refute these... _allegations_?"

The crowd laughed. It was the kind of joke Sephiroth hated answering. He had never understood his fandom's inside jokes, and didn't think he ever would. Still, he had to keep up his image. "I think maybe your sources got their facts wrong."

"So you use more than two?"

"Perhaps."

Jett chuckled, gesturing for the audience to do so as well. "So, the Games are merely a few days away, and you've been assessing the candidates. Before their TV appearance tomorrow, could you perhaps tell us about them?"

Sephiroth grunted and leaned slightly closer. "Well... it might be a close call. Some of the hardened political prisoners might just have the edge on some country boy from Gongaga."

"That's right – some of the districts won a lottery, meaning they didn't have to take part, as I'm sure everyone knows by now. Big, big news last week. In their place, however, are some of the most recently-captured AVALANCHE rebels."

The crowd appropriately booed. The media had run with the idea of such dangerous criminals being pardoned and compensated if they won the games, and you couldn't buy a copy of the _Midgar Tribune_ or _The Days _that week without seeing the faces of the rebels and a dossier of their crimes printed on the inside. _KILLED 100 PEOPLE IN TRAITOROUS BOMB ATTACK. PLANNED TO POISON WATER SUPPLIES. _The list went on.

The more conservative newspapers had ran letters from angered citizens for weeks, whilst others had shrugged their shoulders.

Meanwhile, the media had been rather quiet on the normal Tributes. They'd been taken away from their homes merely last week, and yet neither hide nor hair had been seen of them.

"So, how do some of these country kids square up? Any martial artists?"

"Yes, there are some," Sephiroth replied.

"By some, do you mean a few, or a lot?"

Sephiroth leaned a little closer. "A few. Rest assured, there's only one expert practitioner in the Tributes."

Jett laughed. "Well, that's good, then. How about the Traitors?"

"You've seen the papers." Sephiroth said, flexing his hands together in his lap. "Nobody of import or particular prowess."

Realising that his question wasn't going to be expanded upon any further, Jett just smiled to the camera. "Well, martial arts aren't everything. Any smart cookies in the games?"

"Quite a few. You'll be able to read about them in tomorrow's newspapers," Sephiroth replied, giving the answer he'd been told to memorise by the media officer. It would help sell more papers tomorrow, after all. The newsies in the slums might even be able to put bread on their table.

"Of course, nowhere near as smart as you, eh?" Jett rubbed Sephiroth's shoulder lightly. Several fans in the audience squealed at his non-plussed reaction.

Sephiroth had been interviewed by Jett Wilson before, and it had always gone the same way. The man would ask the most _inane _questions and every third sentence was nauseatingly sycophantic. From some stupid joke about his hair to his fan-club, Sephiroth was grilled on the most useless things he could imagine ever entertaining the minds of the masses. Did they _really _need to know every aspect of his personal life?

It was cheap television, produced on a channel that was more known for reality shows than hard-hitting documentaries, but they did own the licence to broadcast the Games, and so, Shinra employees would be interviewed for their opinions on the participants, and what the company's amazing VR technology had lined up for the arena.

Now he was the hero of the Wutai War, Sephiroth envisioned being invited on here a lot more often. A fate only marginally as bad as the next Mako treatment Hojo had lined up for him. He frowned, but folded his hands together and sat up a little straighter. If they wanted it, they'd get it.

"Betting statistics will be in the newspapers tomorrow, but for now... I'd be putting my money behind the Midgar Cadets."

Jett smiled. "Why? Are you repping for your hometown?"

"No, but the Cadets have proven themselves in combat over multiple Games. Unless we have a very lucky candidate this year, I doubt the Games will last for more than two seasons."

The presenter laughed. "Oh, you mean two years ago? For those of you who can't quite remember, that's where the boy from Gongaga won, after spending a _long _time hiding away, killing anyone who came near his hiding place. And he got a full-ride scholarship through to SOLDIER, didn't he?"

"He did."

"That's the prize this year, isn't it?" Jett asked. "For the winning boys, of course. Any winning girls get to pick and choose their career path at a high entry level in Shinra. And both, of course, get a home of their own in Costa Del Sol, and a boat!" He laughed as the graphics on the monitor showed a ridiculous-looking diamond-encrusted yacht. "Okay, maybe not a boat. Though... the male winner, I suppose, just like you, would grow up to become a great SOLDIER. I'm sure the Games will have hardened them up enough!"

"...Yes."

"Hmm. So, Sephiroth, we have some questions from your fans coming up... And then we can end the interview on a positive note. Sound good?"

_Oh Minerva give me strength._

"...Sounds good to me."


End file.
